Standing Ovation

I meant to update more often, really. 

I'll try to bring it up to date in a few separate posts.

One of the frustrating things about not being there the whole time is that it is difficult to get accurate information about what Rosemarie has been doing and how she has been coping. The shift system means that by the time I get there in the afternoon the staff who were with her during the night have long gone, and the notes are.... we will come back to that. Even talking to the staff on duty doesn't necessarily mean I can find the one who gave her lunch or changed her.

But most of the staff are very good at seeking me out and telling me what their experience has been, and although it is sometimes inconsistent it does help to give a picture of how she is doing when I am not there.

This is important because I am now fairly certain that I can actually be a disruptive influence and I need to take responsibility for that. I clearly remind her of home, remind her that she is not at home, and I think she sees me as the person who could make things right and isn't doing it. Although she often greets my arrival with outstretched arms and a gasp of relief, this often deteriorates very quickly into tears and anger. If she is more stable and calm when I am not around then it suggests I should visit less often - and that thought makes me uncomfortable. Or maybe when I am not there she is more likely to bury her upset deep inside and only let it out when I arrive. I try to find out whether the staff have noticed her distressed or crying during the day but I sometimes think they tell me what they think I want to hear.

But sometimes it is good news.

After about a month we started to get reports of Rosemarie standing up on her own. Not walking, but just standing up and bracing her legs against the chair. This was fantastic news,  but she wouldn't do it for us. We had been in this situation at the hospital (see previous posts) and although we wanted to believe we really needed to see it with our own eyes.

Then she stood up when our friend Phil was with her so we knew it was real, and then at last she did it while I was there. When she was standing her face had an intense look that was  a mixture of exhilaration and defiance. With all of the symptoms of the illness I had forgotten how determined (stubborn? bloody-minded?) Rosemarie could be. She began to stand more and more often.

Everyone viewed this as an achievement and usually the staff - and sometimes some of the other residents - would cheer and applaud her. She would sit down with a broad smile on her face and her eyes shining.

This development made life more difficult for the staff because standing means risk of falling so the one to one care she is receiving has to be exactly that. During the hours when one to one care was not funded the staff could previously have someone in the vicinity and keeping an eye on  a few residents at the same time. Not any more: if there was nobody sitting next to Rosemarie she could stand up, lose her balance, and fall before someone could get to her.

Some of the staff were as excited about this as I was, and one in particular was very keen to get her to walk. We began to get reports of her walking a couple of steps with someone supporting her with an arm round the waist....then a few more steps.

Then my daughter was visiting when Rosemarie was having one of her infrequent physiotherapy sessions (The physiotherapist has a huge workload and if Rosemarie is tired or uncooperative the session is abandoned) and saw her walking. A few days later I arrived just as Rosemarie and a carer were walking across the lounge. I struggled to get my phone out to film it.

The staff continue to encourage her to walk. She has to be in the right mood to do it and she seems to find it physically and emotionally draining. Her leg muscles had wasted significantly while she was in hospital and they are only now beginning to fill out again.

It is not much, but it is like a flower blooming in an arid landscape.